The Game - Money Over b**hes lyrics

(feat. JT) [The Game] Huh, n***az think they got the game sewed, yeah right I'm air tight, fresh in them Air Nikes If the Navi outside, I might be there Black hoodie, black 9, black wifey airs Rock guns like Caddy trunks, keep a spare You see the lump under the Iceberg fleece and gear And when the beef cook, I'ma put the piece to your head And if you see a white truck that mean yo' sheets is dead Then I'm goin goin, back back to the block to dump the bucket and jump in the drop n***az know I'm good with the glock, they call me Chick Hearns Cause if the game on knot, I'm callin the shots I'll wear a shiny suit for a minute like I'm The LOX Then get gangster with a swap meet bag and a Jordan box And when I die, bury me with the glock, and a bucket of shells In case n***az want drama in hell [JT] Yeah, so when Compton n***az and Fillmoe n***az get together sh** happens mayne; real talk from ya n***a Fig' Doin it big and don't wanna split yo' wig [Chorus: repeat 2X] I'll give you anything you ask fo' - money over b**hes Tell me what'chu blast fo' - f** around with snitches What you had to smash fo' - n***az tried to play me man (1) Anything you ask fo' - all about this Bay game (2) Anything you ask fo' - representin Bay game [JT] I be the boy with the most cabbage, pluck strings like I'm Lenny Kravitz I'm in the streets where they goin savage One, two, we dance on the rooftop Let the Coupe ghostride then we come to two stops Figga eight'n by the corner sto' n***arali from k**er Cali you gotta let 'em know Yeahh, ya hit me on my Sidekick Inventory pilin up, n***az tryin to buy sh** They got me diggin in my files Pro Tools, ADAT tapes and big sounds Jumpin on a plane, jumpin out a taxi cab Stackin up this fettucini now these n***az hella mad "f** that n***a! He got another album on the board?" Damn right, another album on the board f** the bullsh**, the Figgarali don't play I represent the whole Bay every motherf**in day [Chorus] [Verse Three] Count rubber band grands I'm out big on the under, with my fam bam And I, hover the lands To expand, I'm from the gutter grime and the sand No jams the flam's all busted The dames want the bucks when, they see you stuffed in your pockets, 'til they get them some But testin my pocket, only gets you none Cause I, got a pimp mentality The scrubs wanna eat shrimp, and get my salary They ain't knowin I'm tight laced in my shoestrings Hate the way I'm flowin on the mic, cause I do gleam All types of baguettes and bezels We shine like life's {?} rebels 2005, me and my crew just pile the pots Move like the ice loose, pimp these thangs to watch [Chorus]